


Apt Pupil

by Zatnikatel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-15
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-16 09:06:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zatnikatel/pseuds/Zatnikatel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>This game transmutes forty years of torture into something Dean can control...</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apt Pupil

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Redemption Road Virtual Season; can be read as a standalone. Digital painting by [](http://anncros.livejournal.com/profile)[**anncros**](http://anncros.livejournal.com/), which you can also find **[here](http://spn-redemption.livejournal.com/31931.html)**.  
>  **Warnings** Allusions to torture and non-con.

Sometimes Castiel finds himself thinking Dean can't possibly be the Righteous Man, and suspecting that Zachariah miscalculated somewhere in the grand plan. Dean can't possibly be the vessel, be the one who was supposed to save them all, because Michael's vessel can't possibly be rendered in the sinful flesh and bone of this debauched, addictive, bewitching man who sets Castiel's nerves tingling, his muscles quivering, his flesh burning and his heart longing for more, for _everything_.

"I love…" Dean whispers in the pale gray of dawn, when he always wakes and teases Castiel from sleep to rigid, aching consciousness, his lips moist at the nape of Castiel's neck, his cock nudging interestedly at Castiel's ass; and Castiel tenses, waits to hear his friend finish the thought, _craves_ to hear his friend finish the thought.

"…your skin. I love it. Smooth, hard. Fuckin' gorgeous. I love how hard you are. How flat."

It can be enough.

Dean tugs Castiel onto his back, arranges him just so before he starts to work on him, methodical and dedicated, frowning in concentration. He worries at Castiel's hip, because he loves to mark Castiel there, to suck droplets of blood up to the surface and leave teethmarks around the point of the bone. He licks across the print of his hand on Castiel's chest, laves Castiel's nipple to painful stiffness, presses kisses on the tattoo that hides Castiel from the remnants of the Host, as he grinds them together in the heat of this. He trails a hand across Castiel's flank, grips and strips them both together in his fist, hard and fast, tender and slow. He is diligent, he adores and worships Castiel; and he is exact and cruel in every precious, torturous pause that keeps Castiel writhing and whimpering on their bed, _his rack_ , teetering on the brink of orgasm for long, tantalizing moments.

Dean notes every moan and gasp, his focus intense as Castiel suffers, and his smile is satisfied. "I want to hear you beg for mercy…"

It's permission, and Castiel gives in, sobs out, "Please, Dean…please," and Dean falls on him and swallows his cry as they both shudder and pulse in unison.

Dean settles next to Castiel then, tangles their legs together, and his eyes are shining smug and wicked as he presses his fingers to Castiel's lips. "I love…"

Castiel closes his eyes because maybe, just maybe, if he isn't looking back, Dean will say what he yearns to hear.

"…your lips. So soft. Especially when you wrap them around my dick."

The pads of Dean's fingertips are sticky with come as they play across Castiel's mouth, pulling and rubbing at his lower lip, sliding in for Castiel to nip at, and Castiel snaps greedily at his thumb, seals it inside, opens his eyes to see Dean's eyes black with lust as he suckles.

Dean chokes out a soft noise from the back of his throat, leans in to lavish wet kisses on Castiel as Castiel growls, " _Mine_ ," and wraps his arms around Dean to trap him there in this game that transmutes forty years of horror into something Dean can own and control.

"I love your eyes when you come. Like you can see into my soul. I love…what you do to me…" Dean licks the words around Castiel's tongue, and Castiel smiles against Dean's lips.

The game is finished. "I love what you have done to me, Dean," Castiel murmurs. "I love what you have given me, what you have shown me, what you have molded me into…more than I was or ever hoped to be. Something different. Something new."

Dean stares down at him, his eyes glittering. "A new animal," he breathes. "I carved you into a new animal…"


End file.
